


Greed

by funnygirlthatbelle13



Series: Not-So Deadly Sins [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bad Communication, Gen, Peter Parker is stressed, Tony Stark is stressed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 08:17:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14972984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/funnygirlthatbelle13/pseuds/funnygirlthatbelle13
Summary: Peter is desperately searching for a job. Tony is convinced something is horribly wrong. No one is good at communicating.





	Greed

**Author's Note:**

> Yay, I’m back! I’m gonna admit that part two isn’t nearly as exciting as part one as it’s mostly setup, but I’m still pretty happy with it. Special thanks to my friend Gandalf15 on FF.net for his help.

Peter sighed and closed his laptop, full of exhaustion and frustration. He glanced at his phone. 1:30 A.M. He'd been sitting at his desk for the past three hours straight scouring the Internet for a job.

Aunt May always did her best to keep Peter in the dark about their financial situation, but he wasn't an idiot. He knew that they were struggling. And he also knew that, if May were on her own, she'd be doing okay. Transportation to Midtown High was expensive. A multi-bedroom apartment was expensive. And feeding a teenage boy with the metabolism of an Olympic swim team was definitely expensive. And as much as Aunt May did her best to keep from feeling guilty, but it wasn't that easy. He needed to contribute. He needed to make some money.

A month into his search for a job, Peter managed to convince Mr. Delmar to give him one. It wasn't too bad. Mr. Delmar was always nice to him. He got a free meal every time he worked. Murph the cat loved him. As far as a part-time job goes, this was pretty good. The only major downside was that he didn't have much time to be Spider-Man.

Evidently, he was not the only one to notice Spider-Man's sudden decrease in hours patrolling. On a Saturday night after his shift at Delmar's, Peter was looking for a good place to suit up when he received an incoming call from Mr. Stark.  
"Hey, kid, how come you've barely been in the suit lately? Is it malfunctioning?"  
"No, Mr. Stark, it's nothing-"  
"Don't call me Mr. Stark. It makes me feel old. So what's the problem, then? Did Aunt May ground you for the crab thing?"  
She had, but only for two weeks. That's when Peter had gotten his hands on the bills and realized just how broke they were.  
"No, Mr. Stark, everything's fine."  
"Alright then, let's catch up. Happy can pick you up at one, so-"  
Crap. He had work from eleven until six.  
"Actually, I'm busy then," he said, wincing as he waited for a response. For a while, there was none.  
"Alright, well, then when can your webslinging ass manage to be available?"  
"I can be there in the evening," he offered.  
"Okay. Happy will pick you up at six-thirty."  
"Okay."  
"See you then."

"Dammit," Peter mumbled, kicking at the air. This was not good. Mr. Stark was going to think he was some greedy kid trying to get money out of him with a sob story. Or worse, he'd think Peter couldn't handle the responsibility and take away the suit again.

So when Happy picked him up outside his apartment, Peter was mentally preparing himself for the worst. Evidently, it showed on his face.  
"You okay, kid? You look stressed."  
Shit. Gotta look like it's just a regular trip to the lab.  
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he assured Happy, "Aunt May made some fish tacos, and I'm starting to regret them already."  
His lie didn't seem to do the trick. Happy was still watching him in the backseat, his concern evident.  
"If you're not feeling up to this-"  
"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, Happy! I'm fine! I'm great! I can't wait!"

Once they were in the elevator, Peter couldn't hide his anxiety any longer. He glanced up at Happy.  
"Did Mr. Stark seem upset last night?"  
"Not more than usual for a Saturday night alone in the lab."  
Peter took a deep breath. Happy clapped a hand on his shoulder as the elevator doors opened. Mr. Stark was pacing up and down the hall outside the lab waiting for them.   
"Thanks, Hap, I'll take him from here," he said, "C'mon, kid."

Stark led him into the unusually silent lab, moving a bottle of Advil off Peter’s usual stool as he walked in. Peter followed behind, trying his best to hide his fear.  
"I'm not gonna bite."  
Evidently, it wasn't working.  
"Sorry, I just-" he faltered, unable to come up with a decent explanation. Stark sat down, watching him with concern.  
"Talk to me, Parker," he said, "What's going on?"  
Peter stared down at lap. Stark's gaze was too intense, too focused on him.  
"I got a job," Peter offered quietly.  
Silence.  
"Why the hell did you do that?"  
"Well, ever since the bite, I've been eating a lot more food, like a lot a lot. And it's expensive. And Aunt May works so hard, so I thought I'd help out. It's only minimum wage, but Mr. Delmar says I'm top priority for a raise."  
Tony began to laugh. Peter's held bounced up in shock. Of all the reactions he could imagine, this had never even crossed his mind.  
"You know I'm a billionaire, right?"  
"Of course I do. I mean, doesn't everyone?"  
"Yeah, you say you know that," Tony said, still laughing, "But even though you have me on speed dial, you're still working for minimum wage at a bodega."

Peter stared at Tony, not sure what to say. How could he not understand?  
"But it's not my money," he explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.  
"No," Tony said, "But it's mine. And I'd rather spend a few bucks a week to buy you a pizza than watch you develop a guilt complex over eating a goddamn sandwich."  
"Mr. Stark, you don't have to-"  
"Goddammit, Parker, why can't you let me help?" Tony was pacing now, his frustration evident.  
"I'm not a charity case," Peter mumbled.  
"I know that. But that doesn't mean I don't want to help. And I can."  
"But there's so many people in the world who need help, and-"  
Peter felt Tony's hand on his shoulder.  
"A lot of people do need help. You're right. But that doesn't mean you don't deserve some help, too. You work hard. You deserve it, Pete."

Peter looked away, trying to hide his thoughts while also trying to collect them. All of his emotions were buzzing around his head like flies. No matter what, he wasn’t going to be a bother to Mr. Stark. The man had already done so much for him.  
"If you need anything, tell me. Okay, Pete?"  
"Yeah," he whispered, "Yeah, okay, Mr. Stark."  
"Good. And, for god's sake, kid, stop calling me Mr. Stark."  
"Okay… Tony.”  
“Good. So when are you gonna quit?”  
“I can’t I- Mr. Delmar.”  
“I’ll handle him.”  
“Oh my god, please don’t kill Mr. Delmar.”

Tony stared at him like he was insane. Which, in all fairness, he might be.   
“Kid, if you actually think I’d kill someone that easily, we both have some major communication issues.”


End file.
